


Driving Under the Influence (of You)

by VibrantHue



Series: And Awaaay We Go! [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Car Accidents, Come Swallowing, Driving, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Panic Attacks, Partying, Public Masturbation, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18729082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VibrantHue/pseuds/VibrantHue
Summary: Making Rick give Morty driving lessons was a bad idea.





	Driving Under the Influence (of You)

**Author's Note:**

> tw: car accident
> 
> (also, the Jessica/Morty is pretty light in this.)

 

 

Morty was standing at the dinner table when it all went to shit. 

For the record, everything was fine before he stood up and opened his mouth. It was his fault for thinking he could ignore the family dynamic without consequences, in retrospect he could admit that. 

It was also his fault for thinking his family would care about him enough, so that when he said: 

“Uh, I need a big favor from you guys this summer–” that they would find it in themselves to do something selfless for him. 

But in that moment, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d fucked up, though he was about to find out.

It started with Summer, who looked at Morty with narrowed eyes, mouth twisted into a condescending smirk. It was the kind of expression that said: ‘ _Oh… This should be good._ ’ And she said as much out loud. 

“What is it, sweetie?” Beth asked, acting as the opposite of Summer. Even though she meant well, her vacant smile always betrayed her disinterest. 

Jerry reacted the same as Beth, but his face was more pained–as if he could barely conceal that he was about to disappoint his son.

And then, of course, there was Rick. The wild card. But not tonight it seemed, as his drunk boredom surprised no one. Unlike Jerry and Beth, he wasn’t shallow enough to pretend like he cared about whatever favor his grandson was about to ask for.

In the middle of it all was Morty himself, trying to gauge their responses. What he was getting ready ask them for was something they could all handle helping him with, he knew, but looking around now it felt like asking anything of his family would be taxing. 

Morty thought the situation would be much easier if he was part of a different family.

‘ _Maybe in another dimension, asshole. But not in this one._ ’

Rick said that to him once, when he asked if he could trade places with someone his age who had a normal life. 

It wasn’t going to happen for him, clearly. It seemed that what he deserved was to be part of a shitty family. 

So he prepared for a shitty response. 

“Um.” He started again, clearing his throat. 

Rick looked as if he was about to tell him to get on with it, and Morty pretended he didn’t notice. 

He took a breath and then said finally: “I need driving lessons.” 

Jerry spoke up first. 

“Oh–uh, well Morty, I would love to, but I’m still recovering from that trip to the sun we had with Rick last week. Summer, why don’t _you_ give Morty some lessons?” 

Summer scoffed dramatically. “Wow. I can’t believe you’re still milking that.” 

Jerry’s face soured. “My corneas were burned! Does no one remember this? I’m in _a lot_ of pain.” 

“Cry me a river, Jerry.” Rick said, annoyed. “I don’t think we should feel bad for a jackass who stared _directly_ into the sun.” 

“Geez–um, okay th–that’s fine. Summer can give me lessons.” Morty interjected. 

“As if! I’m busy with volleyball now. Get mom to help you.” Summer said.

Morty looked towards Beth, who now had graduated to the same pained look Jerry had.

“Oh, Morty, I wish I could! But I’ve been picking up extra shifts at work. We’ve been having more horses come through lately. I’m sure Rick would love to help you. You two are so close anyway, I think it would make sense.” 

Rick didn’t react. Summer and Jerry nodded in agreement. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea mom? He’s an alcoho–“

“Sure sweetheart! I’ll _UGGHHP_ do it. I already got Morty a driving permit anyway.” Rick said, cutting Morty off before he could finish the word _alcoholic_.

Beth’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s great! Thanks dad!” 

“Wait, h-how did you get me a permit, Rick?”

Both Rick and Beth promptly ignored Morty’s question, preferring to smile warmly at each other. All the while Morty seethed internally.

There was no scenario where getting taught how to drive by a raging alcoholic could turn out well. It would be a guaranteed train wreck. 

(Correction: it would be a guaranteed _car_ wreck.) 

Morty sulked, deflated, and sat back down. 

Variations of the car accident they would definitely get themselves into played in his head, as well as the epitaph on his gravestone: 

 

_‘Here lies Morty Smith, who died because his family pawned off driving lessons to his alcoholic asshole of a grandfather.’_

 

It would be a pathetic way for his life to end, but if his life was anything, it was pathetic.

At least if Rick was in the car, the bastard would go down with him, he figured.

Morty chuckled to himself at the thought, and then glanced across the dinner table just in time to see Beth tossing her set of spare car keys over to Rick. 

Morty fantasized about swiping them from him and tossing them in the trash. 

But he knew he didn’t have it in him. 

All he could do was smile at everyone, pretend everything was okay, and wait for the inevitable disaster that would ensue once Rick decided to give him driving lessons, whenever that day was.

 

 

That day was apparently the very next afternoon. 

Of course, there just had to be perfect weather that day too–a Norman Rockwell wet dream that checked off all the boxes of a quintessential suburban afternoon: soccer moms playing with laughing children, clear skies, and birds chirping ad nauseam. 

In the midst of the picturesque surroundings was Rick, who was sitting outside in the passenger seat of the family station wagon. He was slouched over, the everpresent puddle of vomit dripping from his mouth, which made him a jarring sight set against the saccharine sweetness of the afternoon. 

Morty walked down the driveway to him, yanked open the driver side door, sat behind the steering wheel and clicked on his seat belt. He didn’t bother turning to look at his grandfather, who was now leaned back, drinking languidly from his flask. 

“Okay Rick, let's get this over with. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll die before lunch so I don’t have to eat mom’s meatloaf again.” He said.

Rick bristled at his comment. “L–Look Morty, I’ve been drunk piloting a ship through the multiverse for decades. If I can hack aerodynamics while wasted, driving on earth is nothing.” He chucked the station wagon’s keys and Morty’s learner’s permit into the teen’s lap. “Now start the engine, you–you little shit.” 

“Fine.” Morty replied, shoving the permit card into his pocket. He knew enough from watching Beth to at least be able to start the car without Rick’s help. 

“Alright. Congrats. You turned the engine on. Now adjust the seat and the rearview mirror, you’re gonna wanna _UGHHHPP_ see b-behind you when you’re driving.” 

Morty follows his instructions easily, feeling hopeful that maybe the lesson won’t turn to shit like he thought. 

“Now for third base, Morty. You’re gonna wanna back out of here. Put your foot on the brake and pull the gearshift until you hit ‘R’.”

Morty looked down at the gearshift, and then all at once, he felt overwhelmed. He saw the letters by the console and spotted the ‘R’, but he didn’t know what the rest of them meant–he wished Rick would explain it all to him. It made him realize Rick hadn’t actually explained much at all up to this point, and now he wasn’t sure if this lesson was still a good idea. Maybe he could convince Rick to stop for the day–

“Hey! Morty, get us out of the driveway already!” Rick demanded, and then Morty’s anxious thoughts ground to a halt. Without thinking, he shifted the car in reverse and slammed on the gas, but in his frenzy, he didn’t look to see which direction the car was going in. Within seconds, there was a crash and a heavy thump–Morty had swerved off the driveway and backed into the Smith’s mailbox. 

“What the fuck was that Morty? You just hit the mailbox you dipshit!” Rick grabbed Morty’s shirt collar as he shouted in his face, and Morty could smell the alcohol wafting from his breath, which only made him more anxious–to be reminded repeatedly that he was driving a car for the first time with someone who was _drunk_.

“Sorry, Rick! I–“ 

“For fuck’s sake, we’re not even out of the driveway yet Morty. I think it’s _you_ we should be worrying about fucking shit up, not me.” Rick said, shoving an accusatory pointer finger in Morty’s shoulder for emphasis.

Morty tensed up, gripping the steering wheel. “W-Well it’s not like yelling at me will make me a better driver Rick!” 

“Oh come on, don’t act so fucking fragile Morty. God, maybe I just–I need some time to get down to your level. I’m not used to having to adapt to such a lack of intelligence for this long.”

Morty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure Rick. Can we just try again already?” 

“Yeah What- _UGHHP_ -ever, Morty. Just look at the rear view mirror when you back out this time, hold the steering wheel steady, and I’ll tell you more as you go so we can finally get out of here.” 

With that, Morty was able to get the car into the street. As he drove them slowly past the rows of houses, he tried to ignore his hands trembling on the steering wheel, and the sweat starting to form on the back of his neck at the thought of having to face other cars soon. The dread he felt earlier hadn’t left him, and thinking about all the ways this could end was starting to make him feel sick. 

Morty’s nerves worsened when they approached the neighborhood’s exit, nerves ratcheted up to eleven as he watched the cars pass by in front of them.

“Christ Morty, calm down. It’s Saturday–there’s barely anyone on the r- _URPPP_ -road.” Rick said in between long sips from his flask.

“I-I-I don’t know about this Rick.” 

“Just do what I said–look to make sure any cars are coming, and then get on the road.” 

“O–Okay.” 

Morty made sure everything was clear and then turned onto the street.

“Turn left at the light up there.” Rick said.

As Morty made his way up the street, he began noticing groups of cars coming in different directions–which meant Rick had downplayed the number of people that were out today, making things that much harder for Morty. But then he remembered:

Turn left at the light. That’s all he had to do. It was simple. He could handle a left turn. He’d never done one, but he figured it couldn’t be that hard.

He was getting closer to the light, focusing on it, and gradually twisting around the steering wheel to go left when a blurry mass started barreling towards them.

It was a car speeding fast–too fast for them to avoid. 

This was it, the thing that he knew would end them. 

“Shit!” Rick shouted, pulling his portal gun from his lap, aiming it in front of them. And like a guiding light, it welcomed them in–car and all. 

The station wagon landed in an empty desert-like environment. Morty could scarcely tell which dimension this was. It didn’t matter though, because he was too busy losing his mind over not dying just then.

And then Rick summoned the portal again, told him to move the car through it, and they were back in the driveway. Just like that.

Rick was quiet for a beat, the air still and heavy between them, and then he said:

“So, you get to live long enough to have Beth’s meatloaf, huh Morty? B–B–Bet it’s gonna taste really fucking good this time. Y–you owe me for that.” He said as he opened the car door. 

Morty, still shaken from having just been stolen away from certain death, silently watched Rick get out and amble up the driveway. 

“Oh, and we’ll pick up same time next week!” He called over his shoulder. 

Morty groaned. He couldn’t believe Rick was still willing to teach him after everything that had just happened.

Suffice it to say he wasn’t looking forward to next time.

 

 

Morty wandered into the garage the following Saturday to find Rick clad in a welder’s mask, working under the hood of the station wagon. There were inventions and tools strewn about haphazardly on the concrete floor–the car itself could barely fit among all of Rick’s scientific equipment.

It struck him that he hadn’t seen the family car inside the garage for what felt like ages.

“Um, hey Rick, wh–why is the car in the garage?” Morty asked over the sound of Rick drilling a hole into a compartment in the car that Morty was too inexperienced to recognize.

Rick turned off the power tool and lifted up his mask, turning to Morty. “I’m fixing the engine because it stalled o- _OUGHH_ -ut Morty.” 

“Really? When the hell have y–y–you ever fixed the car? Mom usually takes it to a mechanic.”

“You’re right, she does. But this time I decided I didn’t want some asshole mechanic who barely graduated high school to fuck up the car any more than it already is.” Rick set the equipment down and closed the hood of the station wagon. “Anyway, if you’re done asking dumb questions let’s get on with this driving lesson already.” 

“Okay Rick.” The teen muttered. 

It started just like the last one, with Morty practicing backing out of the driveway. Thankfully, this time he managed to avoid the mailbox and smoothly turned onto the road. 

He even felt his confidence strengthen this time around, and was responding well to Rick’s instruction. It was as if he had done a complete 180 since last week, even though he hadn’t done anything different between this week and the previous one to improve his skills.

However, it worked out, driving finally making sense to him. It was possible Rick wasn’t such a bad teacher after all.

“Hey, Rick! I–I think I’m getting it!” Morty said as he drove. 

“Fuck yeah Mo- _OOOUHH_ -rty, you’re doing great!” Rick said, and then he pointed to a row of stores across an intersection they were approaching. “Stop at that strip mall up there, Morty.” 

“You got it Rick.” Morty said, easily guiding the car to the strip mall's parking lot. Rick led him to a parking space in front of a liquor store. 

Morty hadn’t realized they were buying booze yet, as his giddiness for being able to make it all the way to the strip mall unharmed distracted him from seeing where Rick was taking him. Though he quickly figured it out as soon as he got out of the car and glanced up at the towering neon sign above him. 

He was about to berate Rick for dragging him there when he caught sight of a flash of red hair tucked back in a light blue headband and the telltale lavender blouse–it was Jessica, and she was standing right in front of him. She and her friends had apparently pulled up to the liquor store at the same time Morty and Rick did.

“Hey Morty.” She said with a cheery smile, casually flipping her hair to the side.

“H–Hey Jessica.” He replied. 

They watched as Rick got out of the station wagon. “Aw, is your grandpa giving you driving lessons Morty?” She asked as she started walking towards the liquor store entrance, her friends trailing behind her as she went. “That’s _so_ sweet!” She exclaimed as they made it inside. 

As Morty was about to reply, one of her friends pulled her into one of the aisles, yelling something about needing her opinion on which vodka they should buy for that night’s party. 

Morty sighed and left to go find Rick. It wasn’t hard to find him–all Morty had to do was locate the aisle with the strongest alcohol, and Rick would be there.

And sure enough, he was. As soon as Morty caught up with him, Rick shoved a few bottles of alcohol into his arms. “Get this to the counter Morty, we’re gonna clear this store of their supply of Everclear. 150 proof here I come biootch!” 

Morty rolled his eyes and grudgingly made his way to the front of the store, unloading the bottles of Everclear in his arms beside the cash register. The cashier eyed him warily.

“It’s for my grandpa.” Morty explained.

The cashier nodded knowingly, as if he was already perfectly familiar with Rick, and left Morty alone. 

He’d been waiting by the counter for a few minutes when he felt a hand ghost his arm. It was Jessica trying to get his attention. “Hey Morty, can I talk to you for a second?” She asked. “Over there.” She gestured to a spot in the far corner of the store that just happened to be out of earshot from her friends. 

Her eyes darted back and forth as she led him away from the register. 

When they were far enough away, she stopped and faced Morty. 

“So me and some friends from math class are gonna have this party tonight at Tricia’s house, do you think you could give me a ride? I saw you with Rick on our way over here, and you’re like, so good at driving! Oh, and if you wanna come party with us you’re totally invited.” 

“Oh–um, y–yeah I can give you a ride Jessica!” Morty said with a little too much enthusiasm, and without bothering to ask why she was asking him of all people (he was just grateful she was asking at all). 

Jessica beamed at him. “Thanks Morty. You’re the best. I’ll text you the details tonight.” She said, giving him a quick hug before leaving the aisle to rejoin her friends. 

Morty quietly fist pumped the air in celebration–he was finally getting another chance with Jessica since that time she went on a date with the nontoxic version of himself, and he wasn’t about to blow it again.

He rushed over to the counter to tell Rick.

“The- _EEEEUGH_ -re you are Morty, l was looking for you. I got all the good shit, let’s booounce!” Rick said, holding two paper bags full of alcohol under both of his arms. 

“That’s great Rick!” Morty said with a wide, cheerful grin on his face. He took a bag from Rick as they walked out to the station wagon. 

“Huh. So what’s got you with all that sunshine up your ass Morty? Did Jessica give you a–a hand job by the wine a-aisle or something?” Rick questioned as he set the alcohol down in the backseat, and then opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in. Morty followed suit and turned on the engine. 

“Geez, I wish. She asked me to give her a ride to a party tonight at Tricia’s. Th–This is my chance Rick!” 

Rick narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea Morty? This is only your second time driving, and she doesn’t even have a permit yet you dumbass.” 

Morty scoffed. “W–Well I think I’m doing a lot better now than last time, a–a–and I’m learning really quickly. I feel good about this Rick.’ 

“Just because you’re confident about something–oh, uh, turn right up here–doesn’t mean you can actually do it well. You need more practice Morty.” 

“Well, I think I’m doing just fine! I m–mean look at me, I’m making all the right turns, following all the rules. What else do you want Rick?” 

Rick let out an exasperated breath, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. “Listen, if you give her a ride tonight, you’ll blow it–make a U-turn at that turning lane up there–you can’t do this witho- _OOOUH_ -ut me. You’re going to have to trust me on this one Morty.”

“W-W-Wait a fucking second, Is this one of your schemes Rick? Is this why I’m driving so well right now?” Morty questioned, throwing Rick a scathing glare as he drove. 

“Look, I’ll explain everything when we get back, okay Morty?”

 

 

When they arrived at the Smith house, Morty shoved Rick into the garage and pushed the garage door down behind them. 

“Okay, Rick. Out with it. What did you do?” 

Rick ran a hand through his hair reflexively, evidently annoyed at being confronted by his grandson. 

“Sheesh Morty, chill out. It’s not that serious. I just don’t wanna risk being turned to roadkill again, so I made some simple modifications. Nothing too co- _OOOUGH_ -mplicated. I just infused the A/C compressor with some crystals I found on Nebula C that emit particles in the air which influence you to respond to voice commands. _My_ voice commands.” 

A burst of rage coursed through Morty and without thinking he lunged at Rick. “You–You–You bastard, you were manipulating me this whole time!” He shouted, slinging a fist at his grandfather’s face. 

Rick, taken off guard hobbled back but caught himself just in time to stop Morty from socking him in the jaw. “Morty, calm down! I _had_ to do it. You can’t blame me for not wanting to die in a car accident with you!” He said as he shoved Morty off of him. 

Morty tripped backward onto the concrete floor and landed on his backside. He was breathless from the exertion of trying to fight Rick. “Okay, I get it! But I think there was probably a less fucked up way to fix the problem, but whatever, it’s too late now.” He said, shaking his head. “What are we going to do about Jessica tonight? I don’t think she wants to r-ride in the car with you!” 

Rick shrugged. “Sucks to suck, I guess. You figure it out. That’s not my problem.” 

Morty got up from the ground and paced towards Rick. “But it _is_ your problem, _you_ got me in this mess. Now you have to get me out of it. Or–Or else I’ll just go and pick her up anyway and see what happens!” 

“So you would die just to spite me? I have to say, I’m flattered Morty. Maybe we should see how this one plays out.” 

“C’mon Rick, seriously?”

“Alright, fine Morty. I’ll help you this time, but the solution’s not going to be perfect. There’s–there’s gonna be some questionable improvising, got it?”

Morty nodded and watched as Rick picked up a half-full bottle of alcohol off his workbench and filled his flask with it.

He set the now empty bottle aside and started making his way to the station wagon. Morty saw he had that gleam of determination in his eyes that meant some fantastically ridiculous idea was brewing at the edge of his mind. The type that could either fail miserably or go off without a hitch with no in between. 

Morty braced himself for whatever the hell was coming for them and got to work.

 

 

The Smith’s station wagon idled at the entrance of a dark, secluded cul-de-sac. From his vantage point in the driver’s seat, Morty could see the lights from the rows of houses that circled the block begin flickering off, signaling the neighborhood was winding down for the night. It was already eleven o’clock. Well, more like twelve minutes past eleven since Morty was anxiously keeping track of how long he’d been waiting for Jessica to come out of her house. 

“ _Hey, everything alright up there Morty? Is she coming?_ ” Rick’s voice came through tinny in Morty’s earpiece, and he tried adjusting it so he could hear better, but the instrument was so small and subtle it was too much of a hassle to bother. 

“No. Not yet. How’s it going back there Rick?” He asked.

“ _Fucking great Morty._ ” Rick paused to let out a belch. “ _It smells like Summer’s old tennis shoes in here. You’re lucky the alcohol’s dulled most of my senses, or else you’d be screeeewed._ ” He said, and Morty could hear him taking gulps from his flask.

“Please don’t get wasted Rick! I n-need you to be at least kind of sober to help me drive this thing to the party. C’mon, we made this far.” Morty pleaded. 

“ _Morty, I’m a fucking genius. Don’t worry about it._ ” Rick said, slurring his words.

Morty heard the sound of the front door opening then–it was Jessica. 

“Oh-Shit! She’s here.” Morty whispered. 

When she got to the station wagon, he unlocked the passenger door so she could get in. 

She leaned over to give him a brief hug and apologized for being late. He noticed she was wearing a tight mini skirt and a crop top that showed off her perky breasts, and he tried not to let his gaze linger. Instead, he looked up so their eyes met.

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Ready.” She replied, grinning. 

Morty set the gear in drive, letting Rick guide the car from his spot in the trunk using the remote he cobbled together earlier that day.

The plan they had come up with was for Rick to rig the car so it could be driven remotely using a homemade joystick. He was using his phone’s GPS as well as another phone connected to a dash camera to aid him. They also used earpieces so that Morty could give Rick discrete signals about traffic as they went. 

It was an excessively elaborate plan, but it worked for them so far. Morty hoped their good fortune would carry on all the way to Tricia’s. 

Jessica was quietly texting next to him during the ride over, and he tried to make small talk, but she was distracted by whatever conversation on social media she was having so he let it go. 

After a few minutes, they made it inside Tricia’s neighborhood, and not long after Jessica was asking him to slow down as they approached Tricia’s street. 

“Hey, you can drop me off here. I can’t let my friends see me without Tristan.” She said, and Morty stopped the car a few houses back.

“ _Oh, so that’s why she wanted a ride. And y-you thought she was UGHHPP admiring your driving skills. Pathetic._ ” Morty heard Rick say through the earpiece. 

Morty gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a response. 

“So I’m getting out first, and then you’ll wait for a few, and then you’ll get out. Cool?” Jessica said, pushing open the car door and stepping out. 

“Cool!” Morty said. 

She smiled at him, and then closed the door and walked away. 

Morty waited for a beat and then got out of the car. 

“ _Okay, now time to get me out of here like we planned Morty_.” Rick said.

“Just ho–hold on a minute Rick, I know she didn’t want us to go in together, but I still want to make this count. I’ll–I’ll be right back!” Morty said as he got out of the station wagon. 

“ _Hey–no! Come back here you–you little shit! This wasn’t part of the plan. Don’t–_ ” And then Rick’s audio fizzled out, as the growing distance between them broke the earpiece signal. 

Morty didn’t actually know which house was Tricia’s, but he didn’t need to–the distant sound of pulsating music and teenagers with solo cups standing around the house gave it away.

He rushed up to the front door, which was already open and made his way inside. 

He muscled through the crowded living room and found Jessica standing in the kitchen with a few of her friends from the liquor store. 

“Hey Jessica!” Morty yelled over the blaring music. 

Jessica and her friends turned to him. Her friends grimaced, but Jessica beamed at him like she hadn’t just used him to get away from her latest ex, and as if she hadn’t just made him stay behind in the station wagon so they didn’t have to be seen together.

And Morty, aloof and lovesick as can be, was more than willing to smile back and overlook it all. 

“Morty! Did you grab a drink?” She asked, gesturing at the beer bottles and alcohol lining the kitchen counter. 

“N–No not yet.” Morty said. 

“Hey Jessica, can I borrow your credit card for a sec? I heard Tricia’s gone off the rails lately and she has coke and I want in.” One of Jessica’s friends cut in, swaying slightly and bumping into Jessica’s hip. The party had barely started and she was already drunk. 

“Yeah, sure.” Jessica said, digging around in the pockets of her mini skirt. She glanced around the counter behind her, her brows knitted in worry.

“Morty, could you help me look for my wallet? I think I left in the living room.” 

“O-O-Of course Jessica. I’ll help you!” Morty said eagerly.

They ended up searching throughout the entire house for nearly twenty minutes and found nothing. 

“I might’ve left my wallet in your car, Morty. Can I borrow your keys and look?” 

“G–Good thinking. Do you want me to, um, y’know, come with you?” 

Jessica frowned. “No, it’s okay. I can go by myself.” 

“Oh–um, okay. That’s fine.” Morty said, trying to disguise his disappointment. He handed her the keys to the station wagon. 

“Thanks Morty. I’ll be right back.” She said, giving him a quick, assuring smile.

 

 

Jessica trekked to the station wagon as discreetly as anyone could manage in the middle of a small, well-lit street. She cursed herself for having Morty drive her to the party. If anyone saw her, her entire facade would be in shambles. She and Tristan were the ‘it’ couple at the moment, and they had been keeping their break up a secret for the sake of their social status at school. She wasn’t ready to give that up, so she looked through the car as quickly as she could so she could get back to the party without being spotted.

She combed through both the front and the back seats, eventually finding her wallet tucked under the passenger seat where she’d been sitting during the ride over. 

Relieved, she shut and locked the passenger door. She was getting ready to walk back to the party when she heard a muffled bang coming from the back. She cautiously stepped behind the car to see what the source of the sound was and noticed the lid of the trunk was ajar. 

With a slight sense of unease, she gingerly lifted the lid. When she saw what was inside she let out a short gasp, bringing her hands up to her mouth in shock. 

It was Rick, who was curled up among a thick pile of alcohol bottles, mumbling something about needing some fresh air. He looked disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot, signaling he was wasted.

“Oh. My. _God_. What the hell are you doing in there Rick? Are you okay?” She asked hastily. 

“Jessica, _Jeeee-EEEERPP-sssiiicaa_ … It’s not what it looks like. This was just a-a thing… A Rick and Morty thing. It was part of a.. _UGHHPP_...” Rick said, trailing off and gesturing nonsensically.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Rick. Sorry, but I’m going back inside and getting Morty.” Jessica said before storming off. 

When she went back inside the house, she found Morty leaning on a wall in the living room, absently watching a game of beer pong while he sipped on his drink. 

She yanked his arm and dragged him to a hidden spot by the bathroom. 

“Why is your grandfather in the trunk of your car Morty?” Jessica questioned, arms crossed confrontationally. 

“Oh–um–haha, geez!” Morty said, running his hand through his hair anxiously. “It’s a long story, b-b-but it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” 

Jessica narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not what it looks like? Seriously? I think you should go.” 

“But Jessica, come on, I can explain–”

“Go! You’re lucky I’m not calling the police. You know what that could look like to someone who doesn’t know about the kind of bizarre shit you two get up to?” 

Morty backed down. She had a good point. “Fine. S–See ya later I guess. Glad you found your wallet.” 

Just then, someone came out of the bathroom and walked over to Jessica. “Hey Jessica, so I heard Morty gave you a ride. I thought Tristan was taking you? Are you guys not dating anymore?” They asked. 

Even though Morty started walking away, he could tell Jessica was fuming. “Yes! We broke up. Morty gave me a ride. Anything else you wanna know?” 

Morty thought she might’ve said more than that, but that’s all he could hear, as he had left the house while she was speaking. It made him come to the realization that Rick was right after all: driving Jessica to the party was an awful idea. She probably wouldn’t talk to him again after seeing Rick in the trunk, and justifiably so. It figures, since it was partly his idea, and most of his ideas tend to blow up in his face. 

 

 

Back at the station wagon, Rick had apparently left the trunk and was now lying back in the passenger seat.

He raised a bottle of Everclear in the air. “150 proof _Mortyyy_!” He slurred, spilling some alcohol on his jacket. “Oh, and Jessica saw me in the tru- _UGGHH_ -nk. You’re d-definitely fucked.” He was drinking straight from the bottle now, which meant he’d reached that dangerous level of drunkenness just before blackout. 

“I know.” Morty muttered. Dejected and tired now, he turned on the engine and started driving. He was so distracted by his feelings it didn’t dawn on him that Rick wasn’t helping him drive until he was leaving the neighborhood.

“Um, Rick, do you still have that joystick o-or the crystals? I-I don’t know where I’m going.” The familiar dread from the first time he drove flooded back, and he found himself unable to think clearly. 

“Got r-rid of the crystals. Lost the joystick.” 

“You _lost_ the joystick? Fuck, w-we’re fucked Rick!” 

In his hysterics, he hadn’t noticed a car pull up behind him, waiting for him to move forward. The driver of the car started honking impatiently, and Morty had no choice but to get them out of the neighborhood despite not knowing where he was heading. 

He made it all the way to an intersection, pausing in front of a sign that read ‘YIELD’.

“Rick! What does yield mean? Does that mean I can go?” Morty asked frantically. 

“Y–Yo- _OUUGHH_ -u, you’re asking too m–many questions right now Morty. Just fucking drive.” 

Morty, too keyed up to properly consider the situation, accelerated blindly into the intersection.

Almost as soon as he got into the adjacent street, the sight of another car’s headlights charged towards them–they were about to get T–Boned. 

Morty swerved to avoid the other vehicle, but in doing so propelled the car off the road and into a grassy ditch. The station wagon was going too fast for him to stop it, and they careened towards a small patch of forest, colliding head-on with an oak tree. 

At once, a set of airbags exploded onto both of them. At the same time, a long branch pierced the windshield miraculously missing both of them, but the force of it sent shards of glass and pieces of sharp twigs flying into the air. A piece of the glass sliced through the side of Morty’s neck, making him bleed. 

The entire sequence of events launched Morty into a full-blown panic attack. Rick, meanwhile, had unbuckled his seatbelt and was frantically trying to open the passenger door to no avail. 

“Morty, you fucking dumb asshole, you piece of shit! What the hell is wrong with you?” He shouted. 

“I–I don’t know!” Morty said in between gasps of air. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well, it looks like we’re both fine. That cut on your neck isn’t really anything.” Rick said, inspecting himself for any injuries. He didn’t find any. “Well, this is one way to sober up, damn.” He mumbled to himself. “Can you open your c-car door Morty?”

Morty jostled the door handle beside him. It didn’t budge. They tried opening the two doors in the back, but they were also jammed. 

“Fuck, okay Morty. Where’s your phone?” 

Morty patted his sides. “Shit, i–it’s not in my pocket. I think I left it at the party.” His breathing was still coming in thick heaves and his heart was hammering in his chest. The idea of not having his phone made it worse. 

“Dammit, Morty!” Rick cursed as he reached down and felt around the carpeted floor of the car. He picked up his cellphone. Splintered fragments of the screen slid off as he held it in his hands. 

“Well, mine’s fucked.” He said, tossing the phone to the side. “Okay Morty, here’s what we’re gonna do. This is a main road, and someone had to have seen us. Cops are probably already on their way. We don’t have enough time to use the portal gun, and I don’t think that’d be a good idea regardless. So we’re just gonna hang tight. Can you do that Morty?” 

Morty shook his head, agitated. “I–I don’t know Rick, I’m freaking the fuck out right now!” He felt like he was crawling out of his skin; all of his senses overwhelmed him. 

Rick grabbed Morty’s shoulders to reassure him and get him to calm down.

But then Rick happened to look down and notice something odd. 

Morty’s pants were tented.

It was amusing to him, but it was ill-timed. _Extremely_ ill-timed.

“Are you kidding me Morty? A hard-on? I mean I h–have a _UGHPPP_ fucked up sexuality too but this is the _worst_ time to get fucking aroused. I guess I have to ask though, what about this turns you on? Honestly–is it the fact that we almost got stabbed by a tree branch?“

Morty’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tried to stutter out a response. “S-Sorry! I, um, I don’t know. It’s just b-been happening lately! I can’t help it.” 

“Alright, whatever you say, Morty, you–you–you just need to get rid of it, okay?” 

Morty recoiled at the suggestion. “I’m not jerking off in front you!”

“Come on, don’t be a little bitch. It’s weird, yeah, but what else are we gonna do? You have to take care of it now before the cops come, and we don’t have time to argue Morty.” 

“Shit, I guess you’re right.” Morty said, realizing the implications of having an erection in front of the police while his grandfather sat next to him in a locked car. “Okay, I’ll do it. Just make sure not to look.” 

“I promise you Morty, I won’t.” 

“O-Okay, good.” Morty said, nodding. 

In the ensuing stillness, he could see the smoke billowing from under the hood of the station wagon, a low hiss of fumes emitting deep from inside. The residual glow of the street lamps nearby cast strange shadows on them. Taking in his surroundings settled him enough so he could concentrate, and the sound of Rick shifting away from him was his cue. 

He went to work unbuttoning his pants but hesitated when he got to his underwear.

“I wish someone else had given me driving lessons… A–And I wish you hadn’t put crystals in the A/C. Fuck.” He muttered.

Rick crossed his arms and scowled in indignation. “The crystals were a perfect plan Morty, but I forgot girls _willingly_ talked you. I just didn’t account for that.”

“Sure Rick.” Morty said, more to himself than to Rick. 

He pushed down his jeans and underwear down to his thighs in one motion. 

Now that he had settled down, the full reality of the situation seeped in, and his arousal became intense and all-encompassing. 

Morty groaned, wishing he wasn’t trapped in a smashed car with his grandfather one foot away from him while he sported a raging erection. It wasn’t exactly how he thought this night would end. He hoped it’d be in the arms of one particular redhead, but that was impossible now.

But he still focused on her, Jessica, to help him through it. 

Using his precome as lube, he started moving his hands slowly up and down his cock. He thought about Jessica’s breasts in that crop top she was wearing tonight, the way her skirt hugged her hips. 

But then he thought about how Rick was literally sitting beside him, and the whole fantasy fell apart instantly. 

He knew right then he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about Rick in the midst of it all.

“Rick, I-I can’t do it. I’m hard, but I just–I’m really distracted. I don’t know what to do.” Morty said desperately. 

He heard Rick suck in a sharp breath next to him. 

“Goddamnit. We don’t have the time for his Morty. Take your hand off your dick, I’m taking over from here.” 

A flash of disbelief colored Morty’s face. “What? You’re n-n-not going to jerk me off Rick, that’s fucking disgusting!” 

“We don’t have a cho- _OOOUH_ -ice! The police could come any minute.”

“But if you _actually_ jerk me off Rick you’re definitely going to jail! It’s worse than just me hanging around with a hard-on. They’re gonna know something happened.” 

“No, they won’t Morty. To the police, it doesn’t matter whether or not I _did_ something, it m-matters whether or not it _looks_ like I did something. And we can make it look like nothing happened. Got it?” 

“Um. Yeah I-I get it now, I think.” Morty said shakily. “Just–do what you need to do a–and do it quickly.” 

“Alright Morty, so you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes.” Morty hissed. “Do it.” 

“Do you have any lube on you?” Rick asked. 

“No, why the hell would I have lube Rick?” 

“Alright alright, calm down. I was j-just asking.” Rick said, and then he spit into his hand and reached for Morty’s erection.

The teen winced and was nearly about to protest Rick’s use of saliva, but then he thought better of it. They were running out of time, and besides, they had crossed the line of what was acceptable too long ago for him to really bother complaining. 

And then he felt it–Rick’s hand wrapping around his cock. He gasped, arching his back off of the car seat from the sudden contact. The fact that no one had ever touched him like this before became painfully real to him, catching him off balance. 

When he glanced down and saw Rick’s thumb going over the head, he let out a small whine. 

“Oh my god, this is s-so wrong...” Morty whimpered, and all the while his body betrayed him–his hips moved on their own accord to try and meet the vigor of Rick’s fist. 

Rick wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze was moving from the passenger window to the back window, presumably to look out for police. Nothing about the situation seemed to bother him. 

“Morty, this is by _far_ the _URPPP_ worst thing we’ve done together. Just–just don’t think about it.” He muttered. 

Morty couldn’t argue with that, so he stayed quiet looked away.

And it really was easier not think about it, to take the path of least resistance, to shut his eyes and allow himself to feel the potent mix of adrenaline and lust that was rippling through him. 

He let himself respond to every touch, to every flick of Rick’s wrist. He didn’t freak out when Rick grazed his balls, he just dug his nails farther into the sides of the car seat, and clenched his teeth down harder and went along with it. 

They went at it like that for a while until Rick asked: “Morty, are you close?”

Morty nodded, and as if on cue, flashes of light accompanied by loud sirens came into view from the road behind them. 

The police had finally come. 

“Alright if I speed things up Morty?” Rick asked.

Morty agreed, and then in one rapid movement, Rick took his hand off of Morty’s cock and replaced it with his mouth. 

Morty had to bring a hand up to stifle the yelp that came out of him when he felt Rick’s warm, wet mouth on him. 

He could barely handle it–ecstacy surging through him like a high tide. 

And just like that, he was coming, Rick’s mouth still on him. Morty opened his eyes to find Rick looking up at him as he came, gaze piercing him. He felt like a bug pinned to a card under Rick’s gaze, like it was just him and Rick in that space of a second, and no one else.

But the moment was broken as soon as it began, as Rick moved his face away once Morty was finished. The teen could hear him swallow audibly and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand then. It was beyond lewd–and if Morty hadn’t come already, he’d be pretty sure that’d do it for him.

He shoved his pants back on just as the police car came up right behind them with a fire truck in tow–the strobe light enveloping the station wagon in flickers of red and blue.

The cop came out of his car with a flashlight and walked around to the driver’s seat. Rick signaled that the doors were jammed. 

Morty was leaning forward now, breathing heavy as he tried to collect himself. 

He was coming down from his orgasm, reality starting to settle in again. When he glimpsed the firefighters bringing over an electric saw to the car, old feelings of stress and adrenaline resurfaced.

He felt like he was starting to lose himself again, so he closed his eyes and tuned out his surroundings, pushed away the sound of yelling and metal grinding through metal.

There was an irony in the whole thing, as Morty was always afraid the driving lessons would end in them getting killed somehow. 

Little could he imagine that the real ending was Rick with his hand and mouth around his cock, downing his come like it was nothing. 

But it was another kind of death, the one where Morty was dying in a combination of sheer panic and post orgasm bliss. The one where he was debauched all over the steering wheel and panting against a deflated airbag. 

He barely noticed the firefighters getting the door open, could scarcely hear Rick and the cop’s conversation over the sound of his ears ringing and his heart pounding. 

It must’ve been the third time in a row the cop had asked, “Kid, are you okay? Is that cut on your neck bothering you?” Because by the time Morty could calm down enough to hear it, the man’s tone had become hasty and prying.

Morty was slow on the uptake, though. He needed Rick’s hand reaching out to him, grabbing his shoulder and electrifying him all over again for him to finally raise his head and engage. 

“Hey, Morty, answer him.” Rick said gently–a little _too_ gently. It was out of character for him to care this much in any situation. 

Maybe Morty _was_ dead after all.

“Um. I think I’m okay.” Morty said cautiously, his own voice sounding far away to him. He felt like his head was swimming. 

“Yeah, I–I think he’s just shaken up. He’ll make it.” He heard Rick say, and then he felt his warm hand press his shoulder, thumb circling the seam of his shirt for a few seconds. Rick was trying to relax him, and it was working. All Morty wanted to do was lean into his touch, and he almost did if it wasn’t for Rick giving him a subtle push to stop him. 

A short time passed, and they were eventually freed from the station wagon. Then, before Morty could tell what was happening they were in the back of the police car–the cop had apparently offered to drive them home. 

Morty spent the ride staring out the window, watching the blur of buildings and cars to distract himself. He tried not to look at Rick, but he couldn’t help but steal a quick glance.

Rick was also looking out the window, but Morty knew him well enough to see something was off. His lab coat was covering his lap, and his left arm was subtly draped over his crotch like he was trying to conceal something without being noticed. His face was stoic, but he was absently digging his teeth into the pad of his thumb. It was a tic Morty had never seen before that betrayed agitation. 

Well, a little more than just _agitation_. Morty felt his face heat up at the thought that Rick was turned on and trying to hide it, though he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about it. He was overwhelmed and tired, and now he had to deal with the idea that Rick might want him in a way that he had never–

“Rick, is yours the tan house up there with the brown roof?” The cop asked, cutting through Morty’s thoughts.

“Yep. That’s the one.” Rick replied, and then the cop was pulling into their driveway. When they got out, Morty left to go wait for Rick by the front door while he spoke with the cop. 

When Rick was finished they went inside–it was unsurprisingly empty and dark, as it was past midnight and everyone in the house was asleep. 

Rick and Morty were about to go their separate ways when Beth, clad in pajamas, walked into the dining room where they were standing. From the light pouring in from the street, Morty could see she had just woken up.

“You guys look rough.” She said, yawning. “What happened? I saw the police outside.” She said.

“Let’s just say that _you_ will be giving Morty driving lessons from now on. I’m going to bed.” Rick said, tossing the keys on the dining room table and walking away from Morty and Beth. 

“Oh. Um, wow, okay. Did something happen Morty?” She asked, sounding worried.

“Uh, can w–we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’s fine sweetie. I’m just glad you guys are safe.” She gave him a small smile and then left.

Morty sighed, and trudged up the stairs to his room, ignoring his body’s cries for a shower.

Instead, he yearned for his bed, where the only crashing that happened was his head hitting the pillow before he fell into a long, dreamless sleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> Been lurking for a while now and thought I'd write something fun that reminded me of my time learning how to drive back in the day. I've never crashed into a tree, but I've fucked up in all the other ways described here (fun times).
> 
> Anyway, this work is part of a series. Next fic will be a multi-chapter road trip AU. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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